


with candour

by humanveil



Series: et cetera [4]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Bisexual Character, Coming Out, Episode: s11e13 P.C., Gen, Season/Series 11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 15:30:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14311761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/pseuds/humanveil
Summary: “If you were gay,” Elliot clarifies. “You never said.”





	with candour

**Author's Note:**

> i found a messy outline for this on my hard drive from a few years ago and decided to clean it up and make something post-worthy. enjoy!

“You never said.”

“Hm?”

Olivia’s response is absentminded. Distracted. She’s finishing up for the day, tidying her desk before following Elliot out to the elevator. At this hour, the precinct is nearly empty; only the two of them and a few stray officers remain.

“If you were gay,” Elliot clarifies. “You never said.”

It’s casual, light. Olivia’s head snaps up, her eyes wide with slight surprise. She blinks: once, twice, three times. Elliot is looking at her, is waiting for a response. But the words lodged in Olivia’s throat are semi-formed half sentences that don’t want to come out. That won’t make any sense if they do.

“You didn’t ask,” is what she says eventually. She looks away once she answers, her hands fiddling with the strap of her bag. Like a nervous habit.

(She’s not nervous, she tells herself. She’s _not_.)

“No, but—” Elliot shrugs, leans forward to press the elevator button. “You’re the one who brought it up.”

He’s right, of course. And—well. Olivia still isn’t sure why she asked; still doesn’t know what she’d been expecting. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t the response he gave her. Wasn’t _this_. Wasn’t follow up questions and softened voices and unwavering attention that proved to her that he had, at least, considered it.

Olivia shakes her head, bites her lips as they wait for the elevator doors to open. “It’s nothing.”

Elliot gives her a look, the one she knows means _don’t lie_ , means _it’s me_ , means _you really think I can’t tell?_ Olivia sighs, reaches to rub at her eyes.

“El.” Her voice is soft, quiet. She doesn’t add anything to it, just trails off, steps inside the elevator once the doors slide open.

Elliot follows, presses the close button before anyone can join them. “You know I wouldn’t care, right?” he asks, and there’s an underlying sincerity to it that almost surprises her. Like he’s hurt at the prospect of her even thinking he would.

“I know,” she says, and she does. Or at least she’d thought it. It’s nice to hear him say it.

“Good.” He pauses, clears his throat in the way he always does when he tries to start a Serious Conversation. The way that makes him sound like such a _father._ “You gonna tell me?”

He’s standing right in front of her, close enough that she can’t really look away. It’s strategic, she thinks. And then wants to sigh again. “Seems like you’ve already made up your mind.”

“Liv,” Elliot says, and Olivia knows that voice. Knows he knows she’s stalling.

She doesn’t know why; can’t explain her own reluctance. Her sexuality isn’t something she tends to hide, at least not really, not from people she’s close to. People she cares about. She hadn’t told Elliot because it hadn’t seemed important when they met, hadn’t told him after because it hadn’t come up. Because she’d always thought he’d figure it out on his own. The fact that he hadn’t—that it’s taken them almost twelve years to have this conversation—is almost astonishing.

When she doesn’t speak, Elliot sighs. Falls back to lean against the elevator wall. “Fine,” he says. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not—” Olivia cuts off, swallows the rest of the sentence. “I’m not gay,” she tells him, and technically, it’s true, but Elliot’s still looking at her like she’s lying. Like he’s waiting for something. It’s both endearing and irritating that he can read her this well.

She thinks of Babs. Thinks of what she’d said earlier; the relief of coming clean, of being open about who you are. Thinks of every time she’s had to catch herself, had to restrict herself before she said or did too much. She looks to the side, sees Elliot still watching. Sees the light that tells them they’ll be on the ground floor any moment now.

Her arms curl around her torso. The back of her head hits the elevator wall as she leans back. Her voice is softer when she speaks. “I’m not straight, either.”

From the corner of her eye, she can see Elliot’s mouth twitch. Can see the small, knowing smirk that blossoms across his face. “Both?” he asks her, and Olivia nods.

She’s still not looking at him. Is almost holding her breath in anticipation.

“Okay,” Elliot says, as if it’s that easy. That simple.

The elevator doors open in the next second. Elliot steps forward, looks behind him to make sure she’s following. Olivia does, though she’s the one staring, now. Her eyebrows arched and her mouth caught somewhere between a grin and a frown.

“What?” Elliot asks her.

“That’s it?” she says. “That’s all you have to say?”

Elliot grins. “Do you want me to ask questions?”

“No,” Olivia tells him, because she doesn’t. “But—” She cuts herself off, follows him outside the building. “You’re not mad I didn’t tell you?”

Elliot stops walking as the words leave her mouth, his smile fading to something more serious. He turns, stands close. “No,” he says, sighs, and it sounds like he means it. “Liv, you’ve never—It’s not like you’re the most open about this sort of thing.”

Olivia tilts her head, like a silent agreement. It _is_ true—even when dating men, she prefers to keep her relationships quiet. Doesn’t see the point in mentioning them until they became serious enough that she feels the need to. That she wants to

“And you really don’t care?” she asks, because there’s still that lingering doubt. That uncertainty she’s carried with her for what feels like a lifetime.

“As long as you don’t go all Babs Duffy on me,” Elliot starts, “we’re good.” He’s smiling again: half-smirk, half grin. The face he makes when he knows he’s being a smartass.

Olivia can’t help but return it.

**Author's Note:**

> comments & kudos = ♡♡♡
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/elliotoiivia) / [tumblr](http://humanveil.tumblr.com/)


End file.
